Partners in Crime
by flower-envy
Summary: Wee!Chesters
1. Chapter 1

Partners in Crime

Chapter: 1

By: lj user=flower_envy

Disclaimer: I don't own anything nor do I make any money off of it.

Warnings: Wee!chesters.

Rating: PG (*one* swear, I think … gasp)

Word Count: 734

Pairings: none

Spoilers: none

Miscellaneous: Comments are love!

Prompt: #08 – Silence

P.O.V.: Dean (12 years old)

Summary: Dean takes the Impala for a test drive.

He could smell the old leather baking in the summer sun as he slipped behind the shiny black wheel. He slowly gripped it, ignoring the heat rippling off everything inside the car. He watched with a smirk as his knuckles went white around the steering wheel. He sat in pure ecstasy within the sweltering car, hands on the wheel and right foot placed on the gas pedal as if it belonged there.

And suddenly he was snapped from his daydream as he heard the passenger door slam beside him. His eyes shot in that direction, muscles coiled and ready to launch into action at the slightest sign of danger.

"Dad would *kill* you if he knew you were behind the wheel –"

"What're you gonna do: tell him?" Dean retorted quickly. There was a silent _"I dare you"_ added to the end of this that he didn't really need to voice. Sammy got the hint.

"So, what now?" Sammy asked quietly, a mischievous smile creeping across his lips. Dean watched as his younger brother looked from the ignition to him a few times. It took him a couple minutes, and quite a few glances at the ignition, to realize what Sam was hinting at.

"– No way, Sammy. You just said he'd kill me for *sitting in her.*"

"So now big, tough Dean-o is scared?" Sam taunted.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean smiled and faced forward again, watching his brother through the corner of his eye. "So, you wanna go for a ride, huh?" he asked, and before Sam could've gotten out of the car, Dean had pulled the key out of his pocket, turned it in the ignition, and hit the gas.

"You had the key the whole time?" Sam asked in a mixture of anger, confusion, and panic.

"I wouldn't sit here if I didn't plan to drive her, Sammy," he answered matter-of-factly.

"You really are a friggin' jerk, Dean," Sam responded huffily, exaggeratedly crossing his arms over his chest. "You know, this is so illegal."

"Well, when you're some big-shot attorney-at-law, you can charge me. Until then, let's see someone try," Dean answered haughtily.

"Dean, you're 12."

"Yes, boy genius. And you're 8. Hell of a co-pilot."

"We are gonna get in so much trouble."

"Sammy, shut up for a second. I'm still learning how to drive her."

Sam's eyes went wide. "You've never driven this thing?"

"No, Sammy, I have never driven her. Now let me concentrate."

"You're gonna get us both killed," Sammy panicked

"You'll be fine if you just *shut up.*"

Dean flicked on the cassette deck, and AC/DC came blaring from the speakers. He saw Sammy's hand reach for the dial and he slapped it away, turning the volume up rather than down.

They'd driven around the parking lot at least ten times by then, and Dean was bored with it. He began to steer the car toward the exit, and therefore the road. "No way, Dean!" Sammy shouted, but it was barely audible over the music. Dean watched him from the corner of his eye as Sammy clicked his seatbelt in and slammed his fist against the volume on the radio, immediately silencing it. "You have got to be kidding!" he shouted.

"You don't need to yell, Sammy. I'm right here." His ears were ringing, and his heart was pumping so fast that even a shout was hardly perceptible. He just wanted Sam to stop being a buzz-kill.

"Turn around," Sam commanded.

"As if," Dean rejoined.

"Then stop and let me out," Sam replied, struggling to remain calm.

"No," Dean answered simply. He saw the blood rush to his brother's face and knew that a longer answer than this was needed. He continued, "You put me up to it."

"I did not!" Sam yelled. "You had the key the whole time!"

"And I wasn't really gonna use it unless you asked me to," Dean explained.

"Yeah, right. You just want a scapegoat."

"I want a partner in crime."

By now they were turning onto the road. Sammy looked from his brother to the road and back. Dean watched his brother shrug as he floored the gas pedal.

They sped along the dusty, deserted country road in silence for hours. Sammy spent most of that time smiling despite himself, and Dean smiled more at the smile on his brother's face than he did at the freedom of the road.


	2. Chapter 2

Partners in Crime

Chapter 2: Research

By: lj user=flower_envy

Disclaimer: I don't own anything nor do I make any money off of it.

Warnings: Wee!chesters.

Rating: This one doesn't even reach PG . . . so G?

Word Count: 588

Pairings: none

Spoilers: Mild spoilers if you haven't seen Season 5x22 – Swan Song.

Miscellaneous: Comments are love!

Prompt: #89 – Pitch

P.O.V.: Sammy (8 years old)

Summary: Sam's done his homework, and coaxing Dean into leaving wasn't unplanned.

"This is crazy, Dean," he said quietly, breaking about two hours of silence.

"What is that supposed to mean?" his brother answered defensively.

"You know exactly what it means," Sammy answered. ". . . Dad's gonna kill us."

"Who's scared now, Sammy?"

"This really isn't funny, Dean."

"I never said it was funny, Sam. It is fun, though."

His brother's arrogant, we-won't-ever-get-caught attitude was beginning to piss him off. "Dean, you remember how dad reacted when you put the Legos in the air vents?"

He heard his brother laugh, only a hint of nervousness showing above the surface. "That was great," he said calmly, patting the dashboard. Sam imagined he was listening intently for the rattling sound made by those same Legos, but they only awoke when their father turned the heat up to fend off the winter cold. This hot summer day was too much for the heat to be blasting, so the Legos couldn't be heard. "And remember what he did when he found the army guy in the ashtray?" Dean added.

Sam glanced back at the ashtray he'd stuffed an army toy into only a few weeks ago. He remembered all too well how upset his father had been. . . . If Dean hadn't been there to stop him, there's no telling what John would've done to him. . . . "I'd rather not."

"If you were so worried about Dad's reaction, why'd you wanna go?" Dean asked, curiosity in his voice.

"I didn't," Sam reacted defensively.

"Yeah, okay," was all Dean said in reply.

Sammy hesitated for a moment. "I wanted to see what it would be like . . . just us. I'm tired of dad ruining all the fun."

"That's not very practical, Sammy," Dean joked. "Who are you and what did you do with my logic-oriented little brother?"

". . . If we're gonna be doing this job for the rest of our lives, don't you think we should try it by ourselves for once?" he asked calmly and he pulled a folded-up wad of papers from his jeans pocket.

"What's that?" Dean asked curiously.

"Research," Sam responded succinctly.

He watched the look on his brother's face change from puzzled to excited to scared. Dean clearly knew he was watching, too, because his expression switched back to excited almost as quickly as it had changed. "And you're calling *me* crazy," Dean said, his smile widening.

Sammy slowly unfolded the papers, his all-ready-too-long fingers fumbling a little at the corners. "Clifton, Idaho –"

Dean cut him off, "That's a five-hour drive, Sammy."

"I know," Sam answered, perturbed. He continued, "Population less than 200 –"

"So why do we care?" Dean interrupted again.

"Because people are scared –"

Dean jumped in, "See, if you said 'dying,' I'd jump all over it –"

"Like you're jumping all over my explanation?" Sammy asked sharply. "I researched all of this. Just let me talk, okay?" He looked over at his brother behind the wheel and saw him nod tentatively. "Okay. No one's died yet, but there've been injuries." He saw his brother sit up straighter beside him. "There's one particular house that doesn't stay rented or off the real estate market very long. It's on the edge of town, and all of the injuries happen there –"

"So, what . . . poltergeist?" Dean questioned.

"That's what I was figuring."

"And you wanna hunt it?"

"Yes," Sam answered confidently.

"Without Dad?"

"Yes." This answer sounded closer to anger than confidence.

"Just you and me?"

"Yes."

To be continued

Other Chapters:

Break Away (1)


	3. Chapter 3

Partners in Crime

Chapter 3: Aftermath

By: lj user=flower_envy

Disclaimer: I don't own anything nor do I make any money off of it.

Warnings: Wee!chesters.

Rating: PG, I guess

Word Count: 622

Pairings: none

Spoilers: none

Miscellaneous: Comments are love!

Prompt: #07 – Relief

P.O.V.: Dean (12 years old)

Summary: John is not too pleased that the boys decided to hunt alone.

"Do you boys have any idea how dangerous this stunt was?" Dean could almost see the steam pouring from his father's ears, like in the cartoons Sammy always liked to watch on Saturday mornings. John Winchester's face was a bright red, like the sports cars in the magazines Bobby always gave him, and getting redder by the second. And Dean knew they were in serious trouble.

They were all ready back at the motel room in Boise; his father had made record time getting them away from the small town of Clifton. Bobby had followed, since they had two cars to bring back and Dean was still too young to drive legally – at the speeds they were going, if Dean had been pulled over they'd be in a whole different mess.

Dean could see that their father was about to lose it – he'd seen it enough times to know. He instinctively reached for Sammy's arm and pulled him gently backward. He stood between John and Sam, eyes locked on John's, and said, "It was all me."

John was glaring down at him with murder in his eyes. "What did you just say?" he asked in as calm a voice as it seemed he could muster.

"I said it was all my idea. Sammy didn't know I was leaving when he got in the Impala. He was trying to stop me." He was fighting hard to sound convincing, and to keep from crying for fear of their father hurting Sam. His hand was still wrapped tightly around Sam's wrist, in case he needed to drag his brother out the door in a hurry. ". . . And you can say 'good job' anytime," he added as arrogantly as he could.

_Sam really had done his research. He'd tracked the source of the injuries, he'd found that the house was for sale again and someone was making a bid that day, and he'd traced the house's history back to the first violent death during its construction. It hadn't taken the kid long to locate the gravesite, either. _

_Dean had done the heavy lifting from there, though. He dug up the stiff, which was just a pile of bones and decaying clothing in a simple wooden box, and salted and burned the bones. Quickest job they'd ever done, actually._

_John had found them at the cemetery, and had grabbed hold of Sam around the waist and hoisted him off his feet and to the car. Dean had chased after him the whole way through the long, old, cluttered graveyard, shouting to Sammy that it was gonna be okay, that he was gonna take care of him._

Their father looked like he was about to boil over, but Bobby entered the motel room before John could cause any harm. "I just got off the phone," he said seriously. "The house in these papers was definitely haunted. Sounded like a poltergeist. But today's sale went smoothly, for the first time in the house's history. The boys pulled it off." The smile on his face made Dean want to smile, too. But he had Sam to worry about now.

His eyes flew back to John, and he saw his father's clenched fists begin to relax. The tension dropped from his shoulders, and his face began to return to its natural color. Then he stalked out of the room and slammed the front door shut behind him.

Dean turned slowly to his brother, hand still around Sam's wrist, and gave him a reassuring smile. "Great job, kiddo."

"You too," Sam responded shakily, a tear welling in his eye.

"I told you I'd take care of you," Dean said quietly, and he glowed as Sam smiled up at him appreciatively.

To be continued.

Other Chapters:

Break Away (1) | Research (2)


	4. Chapter 4

Partners in Crime

Chapter 4: House Arrest

By: lj user=flower_envy

Disclaimer: I don't own anything nor do I make any money off of it.

Warnings: Wee!chesters.

Rating: G

Word Count: 586

Pairings: none

Spoilers: none

Miscellaneous: Comments are love!

Prompt: #90 – Stash

P.O.V.: Sammy (8 years old)

Summary: Sam and Dean are locked in the motel room waiting for their dad to return from a hunt.

It had been a month since the Clifton incident. Dad still wouldn't let the boys go anywhere by themselves. So they were trapped in the stuffy motel room all day long; some days Bobby or Pastor Jim would watch them, and other times they'd be alone in the room for days at a time – just waiting for some news of their father, or for his angry, drunk return.

Sam rummaged through the cabinets, praying for some form of food or another to turn up. Smiling, he popped open the last box of cereal and found only a few crumbs at the bottom. "DEAN!" he shouted, hunger winning out over calm.

His brother had been asleep on the bed, their last quarters rattling away in the form of Magic Fingers. At the sound of his brother shouting for him, he shot up, breathing "Sammy?" as if his life depended on figuring out what was wrong. Sam had heard this call too many times to not appreciate its meaning. But right now he was too angry to be moved by his brother's need to protect him.

"Dean, you ate the last of the Lucky Charms," Sam said critically.

Dean shrugged at his brother and lay back down to enjoy the final moments of Magic Fingers.

"You realize there's no more food, right?" Sammy continued.

"Always the practical one," Dean muttered, ignoring him.

"And you just spent the last of our money on Magic Fingers?" Sam shouted angrily.

"Relax, Sherlock. Dad'll be back any time, and if he isn't, then Bobby or Pastor Jim will visit."

"I'm hungry, Dean," Sammy whined, giving his big brother his best puppy-dog look. But Dean's eyes were shut, and the smile on his face said that he was enjoying the last of their money immensely. "Dad's only been gone a few days – it could be another couple weeks before he comes back. Bobby said he and Pastor Jim were going on a hunt of their own across the country. No one's coming, and we have no food."

"Listen, Sammy," Dean said as soothingly as he could manage. Dean's eyes were still shut, but Sam still felt like his brother was looking at him. "I told you to relax. It's gonna be fine if you just calm down."

Dean sat up as the Magic Fingers ceased, and Sam saw a mischievous look in his brother's eye. "How is it gonna be okay?" Sammy coaxed.

Dean looked from Sammy to the empty box he still held. He winked slyly and replied, "So, you're hungry, Washington?"

"Yes," Sam nodded.

Dean lay back on the bed, stomach down this time, and leaned over the edge. Sam watched as his brother dug around under the bed for a while. His brother rose, swinging his legs around to sit cross-legged on the bed, and opened a box of Cheez-Its. He held the box out to Sam as if offering for him to stick his hand in and take some. "Here ya go, kiddo."

"They're good?" Sammy asked cautiously.

"They're Cheez-Its, Sam," Dean answered, annoyed. "The worst they can be is stale."

Now Sam was the annoyed one. "And you've had them this whole time – just hiding under your bed?"

"Of course, Sammy. Gotta be prepared for anything," he responded calmly as Sam took some crackers and sat on the bed beside him, legs dangling below him, unable to reach the ground. "I've got desert down there, too, squirt," Dean finished, ruffling Sam's hair before setting in on the crackers.

To be continued.

Other Chapters:

Break Away (1) | Research (2) | Aftermath (3)


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